


undress these beautiful lies

by kaci3PO



Series: Until My Body Burns [1]
Category: The Following
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaci3PO/pseuds/kaci3PO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're so touchy-feely when you drink."</p>
            </blockquote>





	undress these beautiful lies

Paul's hands are huge. It's never occurred to Jacob before, no matter how many times Paul has touched him or held his hand in front of Sarah, but they're huge and strong. That probably makes sense, because Jacob knows that even though Paul's good with knives, his favorite way to kill is his hand tight around someone's neck. More personal, he'd told Jacob one night, and then he'd mumbled something about looking into their eyes.

But those hands, so perfect for choking the light out of someone's eyes, are on Jacob now, Paul's palm sliding against Jacob's chest while his tongue coaxes Jacob's lips open. Jacob knows how violent those hands can get; he doesn't understand why they're being so gentle with him.

He was drunk earlier at Sarah's, drunk enough to think it was hilarious that Paul couldn't stop touching him, but Jacob knows as well as Paul does that they've both started sobering up by now. He's still got both hands on the broad expanse of Paul's back, pulling him closer until Paul's weight settles against him.

He's bigger and heavier than any girl Jacob's ever been with, but the feeling isn't unwelcome. It's solid and grounding and Jacob has always liked the feel of another person on top of him, pressing him down. It keeps him tethered to the present.

Paul's fingers find the fly of his pants and he doesn't pause, doesn't hesitate before dragging it down. Jacob considers protesting, or at the very least asking what's going on, and then lifts his hips to help Paul drag them off before hauling him back down in a kiss. They've kissed hundreds of times before tonight, and focusing on the familiar keeps him from thinking too hard about the rest of it. Paul's always telling him that he thinks too much.

He can't hold back the frustrated noise that comes bubbling out of him when Paul breaks the kiss to lean over for the bedside table, digging around until he comes up with a bottle of lube. They don't have condoms because why would they, they've never had a reason to keep them around before tonight, but they've always kept lube around and Jacob is suddenly and intensely grateful.

Paul settles back down on top of him, rubbing his clothed erection against Jacob's naked one. Jacob gasps and rocks up against him on instinct, and Paul grins.

"Are you okay without a condom?" Paul asks. "We can buy some later but —"

"Only person I've been with in the last few years is Emma," Jacob says. "So I think —"

Paul flinches at the mention of her name, then shakes his head and laughs. "We're not gonna live long enough for it to matter, Jacob," he says gently, and Jacob realizes, surprised, that he's right. "I meant because of the mess."

"Oh. Yeah. It's fine."

Paul nods, and flicks the bottle open, coating his fingers with it before he pushes Jacob's knees up. Jacob has half a second to wonder why Paul isn't even asking if maybe Jacob would rather _he_ be the one on his back before Paul pushes two of his fingers inside and Jacob's head falls back in surprise.

His moan is cut off by Paul's mouth on his, tongue thrusting in tandem with his fingers. Jacob grips the backs of his knees tight, opening himself up further, and Paul rewards him by crooking his fingers just right. He gasps loudly, so loudly that he's sure Sarah probably heard, but then he decides that her hearing just plays into the illusion that they're a couple, so it doesn't really matter. He can't exactly think about being a good neighbor with Paul's third finger teasing at his rim before pushing in, opening him up bit by bit until he's rocking back onto Paul's hand and gasping for more.

He wasn't expecting it to feel this good and when he meets Paul's eyes, Paul's staring right back at him with more than a hint of awe, almost like he can't believe it feels this good, either.

Jacob lets go of one of his legs to reach for Paul, to pull him in until their foreheads rest together. Paul looks broken, which Jacob doesn't understand, but he kisses Jacob back just as hard as Jacob gives, finally pulling his fingers out and reaching for the bottle of lube again. Jacob gasps and tries to pull his hand back, clenching down on nothing and feeling empty, but Paul just smiles and strokes his cock, slicking it up as he watches Jacob watch him.

He doesn't say, "Tell me if it hurts," or ask, "Are you ready?" He just fits Jacob's legs around his sides and pushes forward, opening Jacob up little by little. It _doesn't_ hurt and Jacob _was_ ready, but the fact that Paul didn't ask reminds Jacob of who he's with and what this is. It's somehow hotter that way.

Paul's hands settle on Jacob's hips, tilting him up the way Paul wants him. Jacob arches his back a little to try to help, but he's so overwhelmed that it's useless. Paul smiles at him fondly, rearranges Jacob's legs, and thrusts forward. Jacob's body goes tight on instinct, clenching down like he's trying to keep Paul inside forever, and he surges forward, getting one hand around the back of Paul's neck to pull him into a kiss. He pants against Paul's mouth and he can feel Paul smile against his lips, and he wants to tell Paul to shut up, stop being so _smug_ about it, but Paul rolls his hips and Jacob's eyes roll right back into his head, so any protestations would, at best, be overlooked right now.

Jacob's fingers scrabble for purchase against the sheets, gripping them tight as he rocks his hips against Paul's. He has no idea what he's doing, but his body seems to know on its own as it meets Paul's thrusts and tightens around Paul on instinct every time he withdraws. His cock is hard against his stomach, untouched by either of them, and Jacob thinks about jerking himself off but he feels like one touch could send him over the edge. He doesn't understand how Paul knows how to do this so well, but it couldn't be clearer that he does. Jacob is simultaneously bothered by that and incredibly grateful.

"Jacob," Paul says. "Jacob, hey, hey, look at me."

Jacob forces his eyes open and looks up at him. Paul looks torn between a fond smile and a smirk.

"Can you come?" Paul asks. "I'm getting close."

"Oh," Jacob says. "Sure. Yeah." He reaches between them, pressing one hand against his cock without actually gripping it. He's pretty sure that would send him over the edge instantly.

"You know you can do it without touching yourself?" Paul asks. He rolls his hips up against Jacob and Jacob cries out, hovering just on the edge of orgasm.

"You can," Paul says. "If I weren't so close, and I kept fucking you, you could do it without touching your dick."

"I —" Jacob starts, but it turns into a moan and he forgets what he wanted to say anyway.

"Next time," Paul says like a promise, and Jacob wants to say that this is just a one time thing because they're drunk, that there won't be a next time, but it's a lie and Paul can always tell when Jacob is lying.

Paul covers Jacob's neck with one of his big hands, tight enough to restrict Jacob's breathing. He gasps and writhes as Paul grinds his hips against Jacob's ass, and Jacob loses it, coming hard and clenching against Paul impossibly tighter while Paul fucks him hard and fast, right through the orgasm and after, when Jacob is gasping for air, over-sensitive, and sore where Paul's hand was on him.

It's too much already and then Paul twitches inside him, hot and wet and Jacob can feel it dripping down between his legs as Paul withdraws, the sticky slickness that he can't keep inside no matter how much he keeps clenching down around nothing. Paul watches him, pushing Jacob's legs apart to get a better view, and Jacob wants to bury his face against the pillow and hide when Paul reaches down to scoop some of his come up off the blanket where it's dripped out of Jacob and pooled against him. Paul looks up at Jacob just once before he pushes it back inside with two fingers, finger-fucking him all over again. It's dirty and gross and possessive and some part of Jacob is so turned on he could die.

"I should clean up," he says, voice as even as he can manage.

"Leave it," Paul says. "You can shower in the morning."

"But —"

"I like it," Paul says. "Don't you?"

Jacob swallows. "I'm not gay."

"That's not what I asked."

Jacob stares at him for a long moment, then rolls over on his side, facing away from Paul. But he doesn't go take a shower.

He's sticky and gross when he wakes up the next morning, and Paul looks at him like he's the most beautiful thing in the world. They don't talk about it, but they both know it'll happen again soon enough.

Jacob's still not sure how he feels about that.


End file.
